The JLA vs Cthulhu
by GuesssWho
Summary: The JLA fights H. P. Lovecraft’s sleeping Cthulhu. Yes, I know it isn’t fair–but I’m more of a Marvel fan anyway.


The JLA vs. Cthulhu

The JLA fights H. P. Lovecraft's sleeping Cthulhu. Yes, I know it isn't fair–but I'm more of a Marvel fan anyway. ;)

"Ithaqua! Azathoth! O Those fer hewm the entire Earth es tiny, grant me the paower tew step between the suns! _Lntn X smla dkj qwella'li_!" (Take me to the stars!)

We reappeared en the Watchtower, much tew the amazement o' the people there.

"They's danger comin'! The Aouter Gawds be nearly 'woke, an' the stars are right fer R'lyeh tew rise–fer a year ur a day, naw matter!"

One man, hew was wearin' a black cape, rose ter attack me, but one en red an' blue held 'I'm back.

"What?" the second asked. "Why are you here, and what do you want?"

"I want halp! Father tol' me en a dream this night thet _They_ had finawlly faorced open a Gate. Not, o' caourse, Father's fault–Father has awllus been 'un o' the cawllmer Aouter Gawds. esn' thet right?"

My brawther gurgled en a vaguely affirmative way.

I sighed. "They's paowerful Ol' Magic afoot, an' yer the only people thet I could think o' hew has, as they say, haff a snowbawll's chance en Hell o' doin' anythin' abaout et." I laughed bitterly. "An' even yew 'ave only thet, naw more. They are strong, they are paowerful, an' they are wit'aout morawlls et awl–even worse then I."

"What? Then _you're _not moral, either?" asked the only woman there, an' she tried ter 'grab' me wit her lasso-thin'.

I laughed–an' caught et. "I dun't fear your questions," I hissed. "An' yes, I am immorawll. I am dark, an' you might cawll me evil. I 'ave warned yew because I think et fawnny, an' because I am loyawll only tew my brawther an' me, none else–save perhaps my Father, an' He keers naught fer what happens en the aoutside world. Fer aour Father es Yog-Sothoth, an' He obeys naw one. Father minds nawt the status quo, fer He wishes ter protect His sons . . . but none o' that matters–good an' evil die equawlly fast durin' the Apocawllypse! Come!–I shawl shew yew what yew need ter dew ter stawp the elder evils from awakin'."

"Your brother? You have a brother?"

"A twin, yes. Esn't thet right?"

"Ai!" came a voice from nowhar–my brawther es invisible to those hew haven't deawllt with demons an' the _hlulorn_ very often. "_Tregh_! B-brawther! _X itfg lurv–drullo tfuhili_!" (I love this–such nice things!)

He had found a glass case holdin' suthin'-or-other.

"Don't touch that!" said the woman. "We don't know what it is, but it could be dangerous!"

I laughed. "et's jest the Shinin' Trapezohedron, lady. Et drives most humawnoid life-ferms thet look et et tew hard mad, true–but my brawther esn't any such thin', sew et dun't matter much."

"_Bkla bkla flembie'li uyg'li ph'ng_!" (It it _flembie_shaves in!)

"_X bkla tooip'huj'kzvx xso l'thult_." (I it thought be might.) "Thet explains a lawt, yew knaow," I said. "_They_ create thin's like this, an' _thar_ idea o' subtlety es sendin' Nyarlathotep, the shape-shifter. Hew, o' caourse, rauins the effect entirely by, say, settin' the entire planet awn fire, ur drivin' the awfendin' person homicidawlly insane."

"_That's_ subtle?"

"et es fer them, Mr.–"

"Call me Superman."

"What, reawlly?"

". . . Clark. But don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Why waould I? Yew caould be Frankie Blotdz, fer awl I keer!" I sighed. "The important thin' es thet the whole planet dun't burn up, an' thet you lawt stay sane."

"And _you_."

"Me? Oh, et's tew late fer my brawther an' me–we've been mad as hatters from birth. Fawrspawn 'ave ter think en ways thet most 'sane' humawnoids dun't unnerstan' en the least. We kin gaze fer hours upawn thin's sew bizarre et waould instantly drive yer lawt mad. My father comes ter me en dreams, an' I've received messages from the Messenger–from Nyarlathotep Etself! Sew dun't bother tryin' ter halp us: et won't work.

"We better git gewin', now. Tew Arkham!"

"Why Arkham?" asked the man wearin' black. "Are there any prisoners that know about this?"

"Not the _asylum_, the _towen_! The 'un was named after the other, o' course: the founner o' the asylum must've been tew Arkham towen et some point. Et's a weird place, es Arkham towen."

"The stars!" the TOM yelled et me. "Polaris es waitin' fer us tew cry out! His Abyssawll Majesty near-'woken be!"

"Hi, TOM," I said. "The strin's an' bawttuls tol' yew this, I suppose?"

"Wilbur!"

"Yes, yes, I'm home . . . haow has everybody been?"

"You know this guy?" asked Batman.

"Yeah. This es the TOM. TOM, this es Batman. He's 'ere ter halp stawp R'lyeh's rise."

"He doesn't look like a Tom to _me_," said Superman.

"He's _the_ TOM," I replied. "T. O. M.; Terrible Ol' Man." I laughed. "Even _he_ kin't remember his name et this point! But he's nawt much fer stawppin' this stuff: he loves this kinner madness even more then I do. I suggest we find Richard Pickman ur Erich Zann–they may both be mad as hatters, but they hate the idea of the world bein' destroyed as much as we dew."

"Did somebody say my name?"

I looked over. "Richard! What dew yew say, yew ol' ghaoul?"

The said ghaoul smirked. "Hmm? I say we fergit Zann–he's off awn some bizarre tangent about the Hounds o' Tindalos agin. He waouldn't take action ef Cthulhu etself came tew his very doorstep!"

I rolled my eyes. "Unless you cawll thet awful music o' his action."

"et seems ter work aginst us–but thet's jest because we 'ave some taste." Pickman chuckled.

"This _is_ quite the strange town," Flash observed.

"No kiddin'!" Pickman replied. He proffered an arm–not his. Ghaoul, remember? "Yew hungry?"

"What on Earth?"

Pickman laughed. "Et's very fresh–I stole et from Herbert West's lab while he was workin'."

"He probably let yew," I replied. "I daresay et was most likely part o' a failed experiment."

"Dew yew think?" He thought a moment, then shrugged. "Oh, wal. Yew kin't poison ghaouls." An' he laughed even louder.

I rolled my eyes. "This place es weird, yeah, but et's nawt as weird as a lawt o' places I've been. Why, compared ter Innsmouth et's normawll as anythin'!"

"Not to us, though!"

"Nawt ter yew, thaough? Why, I envy any'un thet finds good ol' _Arkham_ awd." I sighed. "Yew should look around, meet people–explore. Think about thin's awn yer own."

They did sew.

After they left, Pickman shook his head. "Why are yew doin' this, Wilbur?"

I laughed. "Cthulhu es a problem: he waould jest destroy the world–an' nawt even tew re-make et. I'm still waitin' fer the day thet the Mad 'Uns kin shew thar faces tew the world, an' Cthulhu be naw halp et awl now."

"Yew mean the time thet yer Father kin come back, right?"

I smiled. "I guess sew, yeah."

"Then yew 'ave a bloody wal_ lawng_ wait ahead o' yew, my friend."

I shrugged. "We've been waitin' 70 years awllready, Richard–we kin wait awhile lawnger. After awl, et's only the end o' the world agin!"

My brawther laughed his boomin' laugh. "_Krblch_." (True.)

"I'm glad yew figured out how ter stop growin'," said Pickman. "Ur yew'd be 100 feet tawl by naow, I swar!"

It was awn thet note thet the JLA people returned.

"So far," said Green Lantern, "we've met 15, maybe 20 people hew would normally be considered supervillain material in their own right–and all of them were worried, or at least concerned, about this beastie of yours. A zombie or three, four–maybe five–bizarre mermen, a twisted and insane albino woman, a trio of mad scientists, and a pack of ghouls were all upset. Can you imagine? _Ghouls_!"

"Nothin' wrong wit ghaouls." Pickman fraowned. "Unless you're reawlly _thet_ uptight about grave-robbers, an' plenty o' humawns are worse. Hell, awl archeologists are grave-robbers–et's jest thet _those_ tombs are ol'. Et what point en time shaould yew awllaow disrespect o' the dead?"

"Sor_ry_!"

I rolled my eyes. "Humawns! Awllus the skeptics until some'un lies tew them, et which point they believe wit awl thar hearts! . . . Say–yew saw my mother, didn't yew? The awllbino?"

"You aren't human, then?!"

"My twin esn't, sew haow caould I be? I'm jest the more normawll-lookin' o' the tew."

Richard smiled. "Wilbur es, essentiawlly, a demigawd–an elder evil more paowerful then even_ Cthulhu etself_ es his father. There's a very good reason he wears thet caoat, yew know: unnerneath et, he makes the Deep 'Uns–mad mermen, yew cawlled them?–look perfectly normawll. Trust me–I've seen et."

"Oh yes? And how come his Daddy hasn't come to help, then?"

"He kin only come intew this world fer a very short time et once," I said wit a sigh. "Otherwise he _waould_. He dun't want Cthulhu awake any more then we dew!"

Pickman smirked. "O' caourse!–the Aouter Gawds dun't want the Great Ol' 'Uns tew take over befer _they_ kin, naow dew they?"

I glared et him.

"Is that so?" asked Wonner Woman–an' this time, her lasso-thin' was tew fast fer me.

I laughed. "Yew shouldn't use that awn some'un like me, girl–et's apt ter dew strange thin's ter space an' time. But yeah, Father waouldn't mind returnin' tew Earth–an' some o' the thin's thet waould follow are even weirder, ter such as yew. But what does et matter? Et's unlikely thet I'll succeed en _any_ o' yer lifetimes. Cthulhu, awn the other han', es gewin' ter wake up en about . . . tew days? Maybe three?"

She nawdded an' let me go.

"Does anyone en towen know a sleep spell thet waould keep him restin' until the time es up?" wonnered Pickman.

I thought a moment. "The _Necronomicon_ waould probably 'ave 'un, but thet bastard hew runs the library et the University has never let me use thar copy yet, an' et's the best 'un around."

"But I'm sure that he'll let _us_ use it," Superman said.

"Ef yew dun't mention me, then yew might be right." I snorted. "I ask _once_ ter copy a page, an' he never awllaows me ter see et agin! Et's discrimination!"

Pickman howled wit laughter. "What, thet he didn't want tew give the most paowerful book o' evil magic ever writtin ter a 9 ft., 9 in. tawl man wit a R'lyai accent? 'Un, moreover, whose clothes bulge en the wrong places, an' hew won't say why he wants et?"

I glowered et him. "Yes! Better me than most o' the thin's thet come araound lookin' fer et–why, I saw George Bush here once!"

Predictably, he rolled his eyes.

The humawns fraowned et me. "Don't you hate it when you have to help a villain for the greater good?" one asked. The others didn't answer, though.

"What do you really look like?" Wonner Woman asked.

"Like this!" I replied wit a fraown.

Pickman laughed. "Take off yer caoat, Wilbur. Et won't hurt yew ter shew them what they're reawlly deawllin' wit, naow will et?"

I glared et him. "Yew think et won't? There are thin's thar sort shaouldn't knaow abaout!"

He rolled his eyes–an' swiftly unhooked severawll o' the clasps thet held my cloak en place.

"Hey!" I pulled away, but et was done. A tindril slipped out, tryin' ter close them–but they were jest what I wanted ter hide, sew et didn't halp. "What es et wit yew, Pickman? Why, I've never met anythin' else as caould choose the wrong moment_ every sin'le time_, I swar!"

He jest laughed.

"I think," said Superman, "that I see the family resemblance now."

"Yeah?" I chuckled nastily. "Wal, yew waould, waouldn't yew? Fuck et." An' 15, maybe 20 thin tintacles reached aout o' my caoat. "I was startin' ter overheat, anyway. I _hate_ summer." An' I stripped awf the caoat.

"I guess you would," he said, lookin' shocked. "You must never dare take that off!"

I shook my head. "I gawt three others, awl awllike, an' I wear 'un constantly. Kin't wear anythin' else, et won't work. An' I'm tawl, tew, which dun't halp none." I fraowned. "I dun't suppose thet any o' yew kin dew magic?"

They awl shook thar heads.

"I thought sew–most magic es dangerous, ef nawt jest Dark. I knaow a bit, but nawt enaough–they's nawt enaough magic en awl o' Arkham towen ter keep Cthulhu asleep fer a _second_ past et's due."

Pickman nawdded. "What abaout Innsmouth? Ur Dunwich?"

"Nawt Dunwich. Innsmouth maybe, but most o' the magic-users there are awn Cthulhu's side, born an' bred. We caould cawl the deep 'un's magi, but I'm nawt sure I trust Dagon's folk ter keep thar word, an' I waouldn't trust the night-gaunts half as fawr as kin throw them."

"There's ghouls."

"Yes, but nawt enough ghaouls are spell-casters. Zombies never are, an' anyway they're worst then night-gaunts."

"Wal, then, et's jest us," Pickman said cheerily. "Wit a littawl luck we'll find heaven, hmm?"

I laughed. "Naw worries awn thet score: Father will make sure o' thet."

He nawdded. "Wal, then–let's go!"

An,' laughin' hawllf-madly–ur maybe more than hawllf–we went awf ter face the end o' the world.

The next day . . .

Pickman laughed. "_Trudghi'sla R'lyeh pl'x_!" (R'lyeh is rising!)

I nawdded. "The city sleeps naw lawnger: ef yer lawt kin't stawp et, Cthulhu's loyawll madmen shawl 'ave a month ur a whole year tew change Earth en any way he likes–an' when yer usin' magic, yew kin dew an amazin' amaount en even 'un _day_. The rules change as sewn as He wakes up."

Superman was fraownin'. "If we are to attack this creature, should we go for the throat? The eyes?"

"Waould yew be able ter recognize them ef yew saw them? Et took severawll haours, but I managed ter create a hologram o' Cthulhu. Kin yew figure et aout?"

They looked et et fer a moment ur tew.

Batman shut his eyes. "I-I don't think I can look at that anymore. It hurts my brain."

I chuckled. "And et esn't even a very good 'un: I caouldn't make the machine 'think' the right way. Et's when I try tew use computers thet I reawllize how differently I think."

The Flash laughed. "No, that's just how everyone–except maybe Bill Gates–feels."

"What, thet et was invented by a mad dog wit naw eyes?"

"Close, yeah. Or at least a seriously unhinged chimp."

I shrugged. "At any rate, Cthulhu's world es very, very _hlulorn_."

"Say what?" the Green Lantern cried.

"There's naw English word. Et means 'a feelin' o' instability ur madness caused by the knowledge ur reawllization o' cawsmic horrur, the madness o' the Gawds, an' the ultimate insignificance o' yer awn kind.' R'lyai has a lawt of words like that."

"Ah."

I chuckled. "Welcome ter _my _world." I looked et the clock. "Come awn–we've gawt lawts ter dew, an' nawt much time ter dew et in."

"I don't see an island here," said The Flash.

"Wait a while." I chuckled. "R'lyeh_ es risin'_, dun't yew remember? Hell an' ichor, et's _sunken_!"

Pickman nawdded. "Let's see . . . by my cawllculations, et'll be et the surface en . . . tew minutes. 'Un fifty-six, 'un fifty-tew, 'un faour–"

"Will yew shut up?" I muttered. "Gawds, we hear yew awllready!"

"Dew yew suppose we caould win?" he wanted tew knaow.

I shrugged. "Probably nawt–but yul never knaow until yew try, will yew?"

R'lyeh rose.

It was a place full tew burstin' o' the impossible, by humawn standards. There was a great, V-shaped pair o' doors, thet caould 'ave _only_ opened aoutwards. Et opened inwards anyway, reveawllin' even weirder artifacts o' the long-ago.

"But–they opened _through_ each other!" Green Lantern complained.

I shrugged. "Yeah, wal–there's a _reason _yew dun't trust the floor en _hlulorn_ places! Yew kin trap yer leg en a straight angle! I once saw a guy break his foot steppin' awn a strait floor thet acted like a pit. Sew be careful, okay?"

"See thet?" Pickman asked, pointin'. "Thet's obviously a right triangle, yeah? And yet, jest as obviously, et's a pentagon. Et's angles are awl 90°–but thar are five of them."

I nawdded. "Yeah, I nawticed thet. Et's impossible, but thar et es." I smiled suddenly. "And there's a three-pointed object wit 108° angles! Huh."

At thet moment, suthin' yelled aout, "_Cthulhu fthagn m'ukl'zgrah_!" (Cthulhu sleeps no more!)

I grinned, an' watched Cthulhu's awakenin'. Pickman smiled et me.

"Come," I said. "There es littawl time."

Superman nawdded an' shot a beam of heat from his eyes.

Cthulhu laughed, and His laughter warped the world intew some very strange shapes indeed.

I baowed tew him. "_Cthulhu ftgui Yzhig. Am fi philka, Mrew Ghiu_!" (Hello, Lord. my greetings, Old One!)

He looked down et me. _"K'hlay yugo dkj philka, frlnyx ghiu_." (And mine to you, little one.)

"_X jdblunkah dhur lntn smla xsclant xzfgjiy'ty'kzvx ghiu'li. Gidim philka fthagn zgrah,_" Pickman said. (We ask you take the powered ones. Will you sleep now?)

"_X dru b'hahg'g–X gn'pla shgl ghiu glarkt uyg. X k'nagn tenugtfna goy knorgl smla kzsnagsnah, goy h'lnax tiu shlr frlnyx xsfna. R'dhyg smla kgra pl'x ph'ng P'hlynkom ghiu'tdyu_!" (I will leave–if I can have one day. I like would to see the humans, to live a for little time.)

An' we–Pickman an' I–laughed.

I smiled et the humawns. "et'll take . . . a day ur sew, but he'll sleep agin sewn. I dun't suppose yew kin keep 'im occupied until then?"

They said they caould.

Pickman grinned et me, an' we went back intew the plane thet had braought us 'ere.

It was fawn, en a way, tew watch them fightin' Him. I caould see the madness growin' en the eyes o' the 'heros,' an' the horrur, an' et made me feel better–I'd been a bit skeerd myself, an' other folk's fears made et gew away.

They were good fighters, thaough, I'll give them thet. They worked tewgither, as a team, usin' the strengths o' 'un ter awfset the weaknesses o' another. A good team, reawlly.

Pickman grinned. "I bet thet tew survive."

I shook my head. "Awl o' them will survive, but they'll gew insane."

"How much?"

I smirked. "Tin dollars fer the closer guess. Twenty-five fer exact guesses."

He nawdded. "Fine."

I nawdded, too.

Thet evenin', we spoke words of Magic. _"Utug xul, ala xul, gidim xul, mulla xul, dinger xul, zi anna kanpa! Zi kia kanpa, zi dinger enlil la lugal kurkur ra ge kanpa!_ _Zi kia kanpa, zi dinger enlil la nin kurkur ra ge kanpa! Zi dinger ninib ibila esharra ge kanpa! Zi dinger ninni nin kurkur ra ge kanpa! Zi dinger a nunna dinger galgalla e ne kanpa! Zi dinger anna kanpa! Zi dinger kia kanpa! Bababararara ante maldada! Bababararara ante gege enene!" _(Leave away, fly away, will be away, swim away! Bad beast thing! Bad ancient thing! Danger came from far off Earth! Danger act though far off Earth! Danger seem to be far off Earth! Danger nary albeit far off Earth! Danger it exist danger intuit nothing Earth! Danger beast thing! Danger ancient thing! Get you gone demon king! Get you gone demon wet devil!)

Cthulhu nawdded. "_X b'hahg'g gbl X yuxl'gkplo, kzsnagsnah_." (I will do as I said, human.)

I laughed. "_Kzsnagsnah mlreh-axou! Oup X kurkur'bxffc'e!_" (I am no human! I am a farspawn!)

Cthulhu stared et me–and then he laughed, thet mad laugh thet swawllowed the world. "_X txcuglfna uyg wuzgah'kzvx_." (I should have known.)

The JLA returned tew the plane, lookin' shell-shocked.

"So," I asked Pickman, "what shaould we dew tomorrow?"

"I dun't know," he replied. "What dew the humawns say?"

Batman grinned. "And the Darkest Sun _shawll_ run across a darker water: Cthulhu _will _rise again!"

There was silence fer a moment. Then–

"I _tol'_ yew!" I said. "I git 25 dollars–pay up!"

"Wal, I guess yer okay. After awl, yew survived–yew went insane, but yew survived." I looked et the JLA, hew were sittin' en the Arkham Asylum en Gawtham, mutterin' about 'highest Lord Cthulhu' and 'the mad sanity of R'lyeh.'

"I'm telling the truth!" Batman cried. "If the seas aren't guarded, and well, than Cthulhu _shawll_ rise!"

I laughed. "I hope yew like et 'ere," I said, "because yer gonna be en there fer a lawng, lawng time."

And we left.


End file.
